She was starving herself. She clutched her bloated stomach with a sour look, the call for food paining her.
She was old and fat. That was why she didn’t deserve him, that was why he’d turned her away even after having two children with her. She was ugly. She had looked into the mirror too many times, hating herself just as much as he hated her.
The kitchen was her mask. Always bustling around in the kitchen, cooking when someone was over. Melody was always over now, though. She had to always mask the fact that she wasn’t eating.
She would reach her breaking point soon. And when she did, Melody would be there, pitying her. Like she was some sort of freak. She didn’t want to see those clouded over in pity for her.
Or worse, pain.
At least she might have a chance to not let her down, of all people she had left. She searched the fridge for something to eat. Just one small, little thing….
A grim picture of anorexia, from the eyes of Coco, Melody’s aunt from my Camp NaNoWriMo novel this year. I wasn’t sure if I’d done a character sketch for Coco yet, but here it is.